


When in Doubt, Shout

by InfiniteInMystery



Category: Gintama
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Depression, Dragonborn (Elder Scrolls), Dragons, Drowning, Family Fluff, M/M, Mostly Accurate Skyrim Lore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Past Torture, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Thievery, Thieves Guild, key word: mostly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25545886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteInMystery/pseuds/InfiniteInMystery
Summary: That Skyrim AU no one asked for.A day that should have ended with an execution ends with a dragon instead. After being fished out of the lake like a drowned skeever, Gintoki gets the second chance he'd been longing for in life. And maybe, just maybe, he's also the Dragonborn, and people expect him to take care of the new dragon problem without getting paid. And maybe, just maybe, that one dragon terrorizing all of Tamriel is really all his fault.And maybe, just maybe, he also finds himself entangled with problematic idiots who might take his breath away.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki, Sakamoto Tatsuma/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49





	1. Sometimes You Think You Know What You Want But Really You're Just Being Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gintoki's end is near, except it's not. Also, dragons are usually a bad omen, but can also be a sign of power and good fortune. It just depends on how you choose to look at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain Empty. Slow start.
> 
> Enjoy.

Somewhere along the edge of Cyrodiil, in a field just outside of the last village between here and there, an Imperial Guard kicked Gintoki in the back of his knees. The kick sent the last Samurai down to the ground in front of the chopping block, his knees scraping painfully along the hard-packed earth. With his hands pinned behind his back by iron shackles, all Gintoki could do was bow his head in surrender, blackened curls framing his dirty face. He was the last Samurai in line for execution; men he had both personally known and come to know in the dirty little prison thirty feet under had already seen their fates through. Gintoki had been witness to each and every one of them, had been given the privilege to see their faces the moment before death. Along his line of vision from the block, their heads lay in a cluster, each one upright and turned Gintoki's way so that they would be the last thing he would see if he was brave enough to look. Perhaps if he had fought harder, had fought better the year prior –

– perhaps if he had _just_ –

 _This is it._ Gintoki thought, his heart more steady than he thought it would be. Perhaps, he was ready to die, perhaps he deserved it, either for his own sake or for the sake of the world and the lives he could ruin should he live. Thinking back on what had transpired to get him arrested, he found he felt glad. Glad he would finally be laid to rest with his demons, glad that all of this would end.

 _All of those_ _blessings_ _…_ _and I threw them away._

“Any last words, Shiroyasha?” The Guard asked just as the Headsman stepped closer, his polished axe a shiny black against the darkened sky. There were no witnesses except the four Guards that had escorted the pack of prisoners, and all four of those guards were standing eagerly, eyes wide and locked on him like wolves watching a rabbit unknowingly skittering closer. They were frozen in eagerness, not even the clink of their metal armor to grace Gintoki's ears.

_Any last words?_

The wind suddenly blew gently, hair rising on Gintoki's arms as it prickled his skin. Gintoki's attention was caught. The dirt beneath Gintoki's ragged prison pants was black and wet from recent rain. The clouds above him were heavy, angry, and moving, threatening more showers. But Gintoki's half-lidded eyes caught on a stubborn blade of grass sprouting from beside the chopping block, caught on the glimmering bead of water that had collected on its tip. He could smell it past the blood in his nose from the most recent beating, could smell the rain on the air, could feel the moisture in the gentle breeze as it tousled through his matted hair with a gentleness he had forgotten. He could smell the dirt after it had greedily sucked in everything the sky had to offer, could see the blade of grass, so vibrant against the dreary landscape it had birthed from, that green more spirited than anything Gintoki had seen in a year. And that droplet hanging from that blade's tip, reflecting the storm clouds above, so beautiful and perfect but unfortunately temporary.

Gintoki found he didn't have any last thoughts, let alone anything to say. His eyes were caught on the raw beauty of the Earth beneath him, on that single drop of water that would soon fall from its perch, shattering into a million little pieces.

Perhaps that single water droplet hadn't fallen from the sky above.

“Do it.” The Guard said when Gintoki didn't answer, his voice cutting through Gintoki's last moment of peace. And just like that, Gintoki was pulled back to reality. He wouldn't die in peaceful awe of nature, he would die with blank thoughts just like the void soul residing in his heart.

The kick between his shoulder blades sent Gintoki falling forward and suddenly his connection with everything around himself was lost. He turned his head at the last moment so his cheek scraped against the rough surface of the wood rather than his nose, his eyes scrunching up for a moment when the scrapes stung, blood warm against his cheek. His back was sore from the whip earlier, the boot twisting against his back intentionally aggravating several of the wounds. When he opened his eyes, _they_ were the first thing Gintoki saw, reminding him of a moment in the past that had come and gone like the wind.

The dirty heads of the last few Samurai Cyrodiil had ever known were staring back at him, eyes clouded over and faces stricken with fear or remorse. Gintoki stared at them, remembering each name that he had failed, remembering their voices and deeds, until the Headsman's black cloak swept into his view as the man heavily approached. He was wearing leather armor, the leather creaking and straining as the massive man moved closer, hefty boots slamming into the dirt with a dreary squelching sound. The boot was off Gintoki's back like the Imperial was worried the Headsman might miss horrendously.

Glancing up with tired eyes, Gintoki watched the Headsman take his stance, his beady black eyes indifferent from beneath the black executioner's hood. The long axe was raised over the man's right shoulder, thick rippling muscles pulling back to get enough momentum to end Gintoki's life in one solid swing.

Gintoki didn't close his eyes. His heart rate didn't pick up. His breath didn't hitch. His eyes slid to the sharp edge of the weapon's blade, dancing clouds reflecting off its surface. It had been cleaned just for him; the Shiroyasha; the Traitor; the Last Samurai.

Gintoki was ready.

But Fate was not.

The next second was explosive. It didn't register in Gintoki's brain what was happening because one moment the Headsman was starting to swing his axe and Gintoki's life was about to meet its due end. In slow motion, Gintoki saw the blade tilt forward as it started to swing, catching the stray light of the sun and glinting beautifully, the movement so fine and delayed that Gintoki had time to have a last thought. It was not of remorse or guilt. Not of peace or acceptance. The backs of his eyes suddenly burned, an overwhelmingly dark emotion coursing through his veins, freezing everything in its tracks as he waited with his breath trapped in the back of his throat.

He would die just like the other men before him, die longing for a second chance.

In the next moment, before the Headsman even got to put some muscle into his swing, the clouds were parting from behind the man's towering form like the clouds had simply been shoved aside. A blinding light from above forced Gintoki to squeeze his eyes shut just as the Headsman stumbled, his axe swinging down and sinking into the wet earth an inch from Gintoki's bent form. Gintoki heard the clap of thunder like a roar in the sky, the Imperial Guards around him suddenly gasping and shouting incoherently. Four blades were unsheathed from their scabbards immediately, armor clinking together as the guards began to run.

_What is going on?_

A feral roar shook the ground beneath Gintoki's knees, a sound so foreign yet ethereal that Gintoki's dead soul immediately sprung to life inside his heart like he had been called by name. But there was no way Gintoki had been called by name, the growl from above animalistic and feral.

Gintoki heard the Headsman fall just as his eyes were snapping back open in shock, heard the man's impressive weight hit the ground before he actually got to see the dark-cloaked man stumbling from his knees back to his feet. Gintoki blinked, glimpsing the fear on the Executioner's face and briefly wondering why the hell the man looked so scared. But then Gintoki's eyes turned to the sky in bewilderment, his thoughts running silent as he _saw._

_Oh._

It was chaos after that. The grey clouds had turned black and were suddenly pulsating a haunting shade of green. Pale fire hailed from the sky, pelting the earth and lighting up everything it touched until the dead grass and dying shrubbery started to glow an ethereal green all around the circle of dirt. That unearthly roar apparently hadn't been thunder and Gintoki's survival instincts finally kicked in. The bellow echoed once again, a cackling cry so loud it pierced Gintoki's ears and made him cringe. It was loud, louder than anything Gintoki had ever heard, but he immediately knew it had come for him, was calling for him. It rose the fine hairs on his arms and neck, his eyes still desperately searching the sky for the source of the bellowing, catching the dark shadow hurdling through the clouds at an alarming speed. It took Gintoki a good moment to catch up to what was happening, to realize there was nothing holding him down anymore, nothing looming over him, and that he could sit up.

It was the Headsman finally stumbling past him – weaponless – shouting something unbelievable that spurred Gintoki into finally moving. He sat up slowly, his ears ringing and wide eyes turned to the sky, every nerve in his being responding to the threat above like he was standing in the middle of the war again, slaying men of all races and kinds. The Imperial Guards were running back toward the village, screaming a word Gintoki had only ever heard spoken in silly stories and ominous legends.

_Did they just yell… dragon?_

Gintoki's eyes widened, his lips parting in awe and fear as the _dragon_ in question suddenly landed forty feet away from him, the fleeing guards all tripping at the beast's feet. The sheer weight of the creature shook the ground like an earthquake, one man falling too close and disappearing beneath its front paw. When its wings drew back, the suction of the air ripped up the dirt and grass beneath it, a dirty cloud exploding around the beast's lurking form when it snapped its wings open, spreading them high and wide in intimidation. Gintoki was lucky he was still on his knees because he lost his balance for a moment, falling into the chopping block, partially from the shake, partially from the awe. He was lucky he didn't fall flat on his face, his hair blowing out of his eyes as wind suddenly rippled past him. Gasping, Gintoki glanced up before jumping to his feet, his eyes darting to the axe lying within reach before snapping back to the beast before him.

It was the size of a small village, it's scales dark as the night and glittering from the stray sunlight like the moon. It stood on four legs the size of castle towers, a heavy tail snaking slowly behind it as it shifted its weight, head lowering and tilting to better observe Gintoki sitting in the middle of the barren field. Elegant horns protruded from its skull and spine away from its body. The two on its temple were massive and curling forward into sharp points that tilted up towards the sky, the beast beautiful yet deadly in stature.

 _“_ _Gintoki.”_

Gintoki's jaw dropped open, eyes widening. _Did it just… address me by name?_ He didn't respond, his brain going blank as his wide eyes wandered over the beast before him. _Did a dragon really just appear out of nowhere? And address me by name?_ _Right before my execution?_

The massive beast's head tilted to view Gintoki better, red eyes glowing from the green fire hailing around it as it stepped closer. The guards screaming around its feet were ignored, a second Imperial disappearing beneath the beast's massive paws. Behind the dragon, Gintoki could see more people on the horizon, the little village off in the distance awake and alarmed by the dragon they could clearly hear and see.

The dragon's mouth opened again, Gintoki distracted by its shockingly white teeth as it cackled. _“Thank-you.”_

“For what?” Gintoki asked automatically. His voice was hardly louder than a whisper and he doubted he had been heard. He didn't step back, didn't move as dread crawled up from his stomach, his last thought from before that axe came down on his neck echoing in his ears. _Was I already beheaded_ _and this is the afterlife_ _? Or am I having a fever dream?_

 _“I am Utsuro,_ _King of the Altana, the World-Eater,_ _the God of Destruction and Chaos_ _. Our pleasantries have been exchanged._ _Light will never purge the darkness,_ _and the light shall be snuffed out_ _._ _Good-bye, Gintoki._ _”_ The dragon suddenly bent into a crouch on all four legs while its wings lifted higher, showing off glittering black scales that reflected a deep green in the stray rays of light. It opened its mouth wide, tongue flat against its bottom jaw, Gintoki taking a moment to wonder what it meant by pleasantries before he realized the beast's throat was starting to glow just as green as the fiery hail dropping all around it.

 _Hello, nice to meet you_ _too_ _, now you_ _'re trying to kill me_ _?_ The air between them grew hot as Gintoki took his cue to leave. He was acting more out of impulse than logic, his previous complacency with death gone with the wind. What had he expected? His execution to follow the plan? Nothing else had ever worked out for him that way it was supposed to.

Gintoki jumped over the chopping block and started to awkwardly run for the nearby tree-line, away from the village, away from the dragon, away from Cyrodiil. He was aware that the second the dragon breathed out, the whole forest would be up in flames, but while the forest may end up on fire, Gintoki also knew that between the trees the beast wouldn't be able to snap Gintoki up and eat him whole. It would be like trying to find a single ant in an anthill. And considering that the dragon had _spoken_ to Gintoki – or so he thought, maybe the guards had slipped him something to make his execution a little easier? – Gintoki hoped the dragon would come after him and not turn around on the village.

Even as a man condemned, Gintoki still considered the lives he could protect.

 _I will die, but not like this! What the hell!_ Gintoki ran as fast as he weakened limbs could carry him, and just as expected, the nearby tree line immediately caught fire as the dragon breathed out. Green fire exploded all around him as he crashed through the treeline, the air blisteringly hot. Behind him, he heard the last two remaining Imperials screaming, one of those voices dying out rather quickly while the other continued on. Gintoki did his best to steer clear of the fire, his bare feet catching every single jagged rock and jutting branch they could find as he barreled through the forest. It was absurd. Completely absurd. He was supposed to die and now he was running for his life. The forest to Gintoki's right suddenly caught fire too, the trees going up in flames so fast Gintoki hadn't even had time to blink.

Gintoki ran, his body high on adrenaline. He ran until the bellowing died out behind him. He ran until the dragon who had introduced himself as Utsuro was flying overhead with a mighty roar, headed North just like Gintoki was, burning everything in its wake as it hurdled through the sky and made itself known. Behind him, the forest was still burning green, the sound of crackling branches and falling trees encouraging Gintoki to keep running even though he couldn't breathe, even though his legs felt like jelly, even though his body was moving on empty and his muscles were weak with malnourishment. He was in pain, bleeding, his head going fuzzy. The trees were making him dizzy, the smoke in the air choking him.

He ran on autopilot until his foot suddenly didn't come down on solid ground like he had expected. Suddenly, he was falling.

Head over heels he crashed through the undergrowth and small shrubbery, his trapped arms doing nothing to stop his fall as he curled up as best he could and slid between trees, his speed only increasing with the downward slope.

At the edge of the cliff, Gintoki yelped when his body slid right off the edge. On his back, he got a beautiful view of the dark clouds above him finally spitting out gentle rain, the pulsating glow of lighting lit up half the sky.

He was free-falling then, the drop long enough to gasp but short enough to have a moment of hope. His body abruptly slammed into the lake, freezing water clinging to him and drowning out his hearing and vision as it sucked him under. His chest lit on fire when he gasped from the cold shock, water filling his lungs like they had weekly down in the dungeon he had called home. His struggles were futile, legs kicking but arms desperately thrashing behind him, hair fanning out as he slowly drifted further from the sky.

 _Not by_ _malnourishment. Not by infection. Not by_ _the Headsman and_ _not_ _by the dragon. I'm going to die by drowning._

This wasn't fair. Gintoki didn't close his eyes, didn't lose sight of the lightning above either. His heart rate picked up. His breath was trapped as he was engulfed by the freezing lake, legs kicking and arms struggling to get free behind him.

Gintoki wasn't ready to die.

–

_The light will never purge the darkness._

Gintoki woke with a sharp gasp, his lungs burning. He sat up so fast that his head began to spin, his heart thrumming painfully in his chest, reminding him that he was under attack, that he was dying, that he had a second chance at life and he needed to seize it before the opportunity was lost. There was something twisted around his bare hips and legs – clothes? Where were his clothes? – his hand instantly grabbing for it and struggling to rip it off. He couldn't swim, he could hardly move, there was no way he could outrun a dragon and the Imperial army _and_ the crushing weight of his own demons. He was being chased, wasn't he? Did he wash up on the shore? Was he still under attack? Would the Imperial army consider his disappearance an escape? Would they skip the execution and just take away his sight and hearing before beating him until his limbs no longer worked?

The sound of a door opening across from him had Gintoki gasping again, a noisy, wheezing inhale, his feet finding purchase and kicking himself so that his back pressed to the nearest corner. It was from that vantage point that the details of his surroundings suddenly began to sink into his over-stimulated brain, his eyes rapidly blinking to make sure he was truly awake. He was clutching the blanket trapped around his hips – it was only a blanket, just a blanket, he had been so panicked over it – his eyes wide on the figure appearing in the doorway.

He was in a room. A little room he realized, warmer than he could ever remember being. The room was just wide enough to fit the wooden bed he was sitting on length-wise, the straw mattress beneath him the most comfortable thing he'd sat on in a very long time. Trapped around his hips was a thin blanket sewn from animal furs. It wasn't as itchy and ratty as the blankets down in the prison, which had hardly warded off the onset of hypothermia in the colder months. It was warm. Solid. Along the wall opposite of the door, there was a long wooden trunk to store clothes and personal belongings, a small glass lantern sitting on top of it to ward off the darkness. There was a painting hanging on the back of the door, a painting of a scenic view of a land Gintoki didn't recognize. It disappeared when the door swung open.

In the doorway, an old woman stood with one hand on the wooden handle, the candlestick in her other flickering gently. Her greying hair was pulled back from her face, old tired eyes landing gently on Gintoki in the dark. She was wearing what looked like nightclothes, a grey robe tied loosely around her waist. At first glance, Gintoki had mistaken it for a yukata.

“Relax.” She said. Her voice was old and stern, but there was a gentleness beneath it. “I don't know what kind of trouble you found yourself in, but you're lucky to be alive.”

Gintoki blinked. He willed himself to relax, for his fingers to release the blanket he was clutching so desperately. He took in a shallow shaky breath, fingers loosening. His immediate fear was that he was in an Imperial Infirmary, set to go back exactly where he had been and that all of the chaos with the execution and the dragon had been for naught.

Oh right. _The dragon._

“Where… where am I?”

“Riften. This is my home.” The old woman said. She pushed the door further open, taking a step inside. She didn't move any closer after Gintoki flinched away from her, but she didn't look offended by it. Gintoki hated that he had responded so obviously, but his brain was still catching up to what was happening around him, was still searching for hidden dangers. _I'm supposed to be dead, aren't I? How did I make it?_ _I can't swim, I should have drowned._

“I'm Otose, I run a little snack shop downstairs. I dragged you out of Lake Honrich a couple of days ago. You're lucky the weather was shitty and the current threw you on the bank when it did.”

 _Days ago._ Gintoki only blinked at her, struggling to remember the details. He remembered running shackled through the trees, green fire erupting around him and smothering him in smoke as he had fled. He could remember stepping off the edge of the cliff by accident, remembered falling and drowning.

He swallowed, eyes suddenly cast down. “Thank-you.”

Otose huffed as she stepped back towards the door. She was smiling, but her smile and eyes were warm unlike the guards back in the dungeon. Were kind unlike the men Gintoki had met on both sides of the war. “Don't thank me. I'll be putting you to work in exchange for the cost of popping those shackles off your wrists. Those little cuffs sure required some skill, and skill around here costs a lot of coin.”

 _Thank-you._ Gintoki wanted to say again, but he kept his mouth shut. He only nodded in understanding, his brain trying to piece together the information, his thoughts overwhelmed by the events. _A dragon? Riften and Lake Honrich? I'm not in Cyrodiil anymore,_ _probably_ _not in Morrowind._ _Skyrim,_ _then_ _?_

“Get some rest.” Otose said. “If you can get up in the morning, there are clothes in this trunk. I'll be home, so feel free to come out.”

She closed the door then without another word, shutting Gintoki back into the tiny little room that looked like nothing more than a pantry converted into a spare bedroom. He supposed it was better than a large open space.

He didn't feel safe, but he felt safer than he had in quite some time.

Gintoki closed his eyes with his back to the wall, mentally running through his body, gauging his injuries and his fleeting strength. His feet were bandaged gently, cuts and abrasions littering the soles of his feet. His arms were wrapped up carefully, his torso too. The lashes on his back felt numb, a salve keeping them clean and helping them heal. He didn't feel any worse than he had days ago, but he didn't necessarily feel any better.

_Maybe this is the second chance..._

Gintoki fell back asleep sitting vigilantly against the wall.

–

The morning sun was gentle as it cast light into the room over the bed, the little rays streaming in from between the cracks in the shutters. The light itself did not touch Gintoki but Gintoki woke up to it all the same. Prying his eyes open, it took him a few minutes to remember where he was and why, took him another few minutes to carefully shift his sore limbs away from the wall. His back was throbbing, his hips and knees tense and miserable as he scooted to the edge of the bed. His feet hurt the second he placed them on the floor, and with great difficulty he was able to stand, pain skipping up his back and shooting into his temples. His mouth was incredibly dry, his balance off-kilter, his mood sour. It felt like he had been to Hell and back.

He briefly wondered if he should leave and never be seen again.

But he was alive and safe for now, that old woman who had tended to him had kept him hidden for several days. His first response was to be disappointed he hadn't died, but then he remembered his last thought before that axe should have swept down and severed his head.

 _Be thankful. Perhaps this is the silver lining,_ _the hope you gave up on_ _?_ Naked, Gintoki hobbled over to the chest in the corner of the tiny room. The candle had been extinguished at some point so he simply picked it up and placed it beside the trunk. He struggled to get the old trunk open, blamed its hinges for being old and rusty and not the weakness in his own arms. When he got it open, he found several garments to cover himself with.

He didn't trust the underwear – they looked old and moth-eaten. But he found several old yukatas buried at the bottom of the trunk, welcomed fashion in the strange world he had found himself in. The white one caught his eye first, but Gintoki pulled out the darker one instead, worried his bloody back might ruin the fabric. He tugged it out and wrapped it around himself, black with little snowflakes decorating the hem, immediately feeling a little more secure.

Pulling open the door to the little room once the yukata was tied, Gintoki poked his head out to gauge the rest of the house. It turned out Gintoki was up in the attic, a little open area with a bookshelf and a wooden bench just outside his door, the stairs to get to the main floor just beyond them. Carefully, Gintoki righted himself from his sneaky position, his feet silent on the floorboards as he approached the stairs to check out the main floor down below. He peeked over the edge of it just like he had in the doorway, quickly taking in his surroundings.

There was a hearth downstairs, a little fire in the floor with a cooking pot built over it. Next to it was a sitting area with another bookshelf and a tall storage cabinet. The old woman was nowhere to be seen, but Gintoki suspected she had a room downstairs, probably beneath the very floor he was standing on. Perhaps she was still sleeping, perhaps she had an old husband who was about to give both him and her an earful about dragging home strays before selling Gintoki back to the Imperials.

Carefully, Gintoki crept down the stairs, his feet protesting every step.

At the bottom, Gintoki stood for a moment, taking in his homey surroundings.

“Good to see you up.”

Gintoki jumped, spinning around where he stood. His right hand automatically went for his left hip, fingers clasping around air. His motion wasn't missed by Otose, the old woman glancing down to his hip and then back up to his face. She was dressed now, wearing a bland brown yukata. It reminded Gintoki of home, somewhere far away, before he ended up in Cyrodiil fighting for his life and his people in a terribly one-sided war.

“A warrior, I see.” Otose said simply before waving at him to follow her. “I've already made breakfast. You look like you need to eat.”

Cautiously, Gintoki followed after her to a little nearby table. He had been right assuming there was a room beneath the floor he had been standing on – the bedroom door was open like she had heard him coming down and had simply waited beneath him. He only got a glimpse into the larger room, but it didn't look out of the ordinary.

The table was tucked away in the corner of the kitchen area, small and square with only two chairs pulled up to it. There were two bowls placed down, both of them still steaming with hot soup, though it looked like the old lady had already started to eat without him. Whether the woman had heard him get up and had poured him a bowl before he came down, or had simply guessed he would be up with the sunrise, Gintoki wasn't sure. What he was sure about was that he hadn't had a solid meal in a very long time and as much as he wanted to inhale everything before him, he knew better.

Gingerly, Gintoki sat down and gripped the wooden spoon lying neatly over the bowl. He glanced at the soup, eyeing up a scarce amount of cabbage amongst the broth.

“It doesn't look like you've had a decent meal in a while.” Otose said suddenly, her voice still as warm as it had been the night before. When Gintoki glanced her way, he noticed she was eating exactly what he was. “We didn't get a chance to talk much, so I didn't want to give you too much. I don't know where you came from, but I don't think you were well taken care of.”

Gintoki chuckled at that like it was funny, before stirring the contents of his bowl. He'd eaten worse things in prison, had eaten – on second thought, he didn't even want to think about it.

“I never got your name.” Otose said. She was eating slowly, watching Gintoki sip at the hot broth. He didn't bother touching the cabbage, figured the broth alone would be enough to upset his stomach.

Gintoki debated that question. Wondered how far his name and titles had spread, wondered if the old woman would care to know his past deeds and pathetic downfall. He knew he wasn't in Cyrodiil anymore, was fairly certain he wasn't in Morrowind. So that left Skyrim and it's unruly laws of the North. Maybe he'd be safe. Maybe he was in more danger than he had been before.

_Some things are worse than death._

“Gintoki.” He said, his voice quiet and cracking. He'd dodged death enough times to warrant it trying again and again. Just this time, Gintoki was tired of evading it. He was starting to think he was tired of living. If his name brought him trouble, it was what he deserved.

Despite his better judgment, Gintoki hurriedly finished his broth, leaving the cabbage behind at the bottom.

“Gintoki.” Otose said like she was sounding out the name. She chuckled before leaning back in her chair. She picked up a nearby pipe, the bowl already full, before pulling the nearby candle closer so she could light it. She inhaled deeply before puffing out a cloud of smoke. “A pleasure to meet you, Gintoki. I don't know where you came from, but you're welcome here.”

 _I'm welcomed here? You don't even know me._ “You just let any drowned strangers stay, Granny? Don't you know that's dangerous?” Gintoki asked. He grabbed the nearby tankard, downing the water inside. His mouth was so dry that his insides felt dry too.

Otose laughed at that. She was smiling as she took another drag, her eyes gentle on Gintoki. “You have no idea where you are, do you, Gintoki?”

Gintoki didn't respond, eyes on the bottom of his tankard, wondering if it would be rude to ask for more water. _Or will I puke?_ However preoccupied with the tankard he was, he did hear the unspoken threat behind her words, wondered if he was really the biggest source of trouble under this roof.

Otose took another spoonful of her soup before standing up. She glanced over Gintoki with kind eyes before collecting their bowls. Gintoki already felt like he owed her so much, let alone the hospitality now. She had saved his life, was being so nice even though he could be a murderer and a thief for all she knew. He was, too. A murderer and a thief. Years of battlefields and dungeons had left Gintoki mistrustful and mistreated, doing things he was ashamed to admit.

“Let me help.” He said, because it was the least he could do to try and win back some karma, however belated it was. But when he moved to stand, he found his legs weak. He flopped back into his chair with a defeated sigh and only ended up handing Otose his empty tankard.

“Don't worry about it.” Otose placed a hand on his head, fingers pulling at one of his dirty, blackened curls. “Let's get you cleaned up a little. There's someone you should meet.”


	2. Side Characters Can Be Dynamic Too, You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gintoki gets to meet Otose's other Stray. He also needs to chillax a little bit.

By 'cleaned up', Otose really meant practically dunking Gintoki's head into a bucket and scrubbing everything from his shoulders up with soap. Gintoki didn't complain, had swallowed his panic and anxiety down, his knuckles white along the edge of the bucket. She had poured water over the back of his head to get his hair wet, the action alone forcing Gintoki to become complacent when water started to run down his face. But Otose made it very clear once she started to gently rub her fingers through his hair that she had meant no harm by the action. Perhaps it had even been _nice_ to have his hair washed _._ With Gintoki rigid, the clean up went quickly and once Otose was done she couldn't help but stare at him, her eyes wide and locked on his hair.

“What?” Gintoki asked in exasperation as he followed the old woman out of her house. He'd managed to keep his yukata dry, but his hair was still a little damp, droplets clinging to his curls. His head felt fresh. Clean. It was good, good for his head too. His mood had perked up a little, and he was sure Otose had noticed.

Otose had let him rest until lunch, some more broth and water perking up Gintoki's mood even more, a little bit of his energy returning. He'd found himself moving around more, snooping around the basic house and finding nothing of interest. He wanted to make himself at home, to open his mouth and push his luck, but at the back of his mind he remembered the chopping block and thought twice about it.

Before they had left for Otose's errand, Otose had even found him some worn old leather boots that fit, for the most part. It had become increasingly obvious that a man had used to live in the house. Old clothes still stored in Otose's wardrobe. The yukata on Gintoki's own back even. Now whether the man of the house was out traveling, banging the local wildlife, or resting in the city grave, Gintoki didn't know. He wouldn't ask, either. Him and the old lady hardly knew each other, after all.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he did feel better. Felt a little more at ease with the old woman than he had expected. Otose had untangled most of the mats from his hair, had promised they'd stop by a friend's later to try and save the worst of the knots. She'd also cleaned off most of the dirt from when she had tended to his wounds, so his skin was cleaner than it had been in the past year. So far, his stay was nice. Suspiciously so. Gintoki could only wonder how long it would be until his good fortune ran out because inevitably everything good in his life was always met with an influx of horrendously bad.

Sometimes, it wasn't even worth it.

“Your hair isn't actually brown.” Otose marveled, her eyes still locked on Gintoki's curls as she locked her front door behind them. She turned away then, her key appearing from inside her sleeve.

“It isn't.” Gintoki agreed. He huffed, glancing away from her to marvel at the city laid out before him. He'd been both curious and wary about leaving the house, had worried that Otose had been lying to him about where he'd ended up and who she was. Some dormant fear had conjured up the idea that Gintoki would recognize his surroundings right before getting arrested again and thrown back into his dungeon cell, that he really was still in Cyrodiil, that he really was being hunted down by the Imperials again, that despite the _dragon talking to him_ , he really was still going to die.

He fears had only been imaginative.

They had left through the front door and Gintoki was surprised to find himself standing on a wooden balcony overlooking the city. Otose lived in the corner of Riften, tucked away in a rather spacious house with a gated back yard that looked like it could use some work. The sky above was overcast but the wind wasn't as cold as Gintoki had expected. It was nice, and the air smelled crisp like autumn, the oranges and yellows he could see in the distance past the high stone walls only confirming that it was later in the year. Gintoki had forgotten about the seasons. The past few years of his life had been dark and varying levels of too-cold, the years before that varying levels of too-hot as fires ravaged the battlefield all around him.

This was nice, but the peace was foreign.

“You weren't joking about the shop being downstairs.” Gintoki said, leaning against the railing and glancing to the cobblestone path beneath him. He could make out the letters on the sign hanging just beneath him, _Snack Otose_ carved neatly into the wooden placard. He looked back out over the city, taking it all in. The buildings were all made of wood and built closely together, the entire city constructed over a small canal. He could smell the water, could smell the lake. Something was rotting in the air, but Gintoki wouldn't have considered the smell too bad. Down in the streets, there were only a few other people out and about, though off in the distance Gintoki could catch a glimpse of a crowd. A market, perhaps? It looked too busy for his liking and he really hoped Otose didn't need to go over _there._

Along the same cobblestone path that led up to Otose's house, a man paused in the distance just outside another building, catching Gintoki's attention. He was large and hulking, glancing Gintoki's way and staring. His long hair was almost as bright as Gintoki's, a bright shade of grey. It wasn't until Otose moved beside Gintoki that the man waved, and Otose waved back.

“That's Saigo.” Otose said. Judging from the fondness on her tone, the man was at least a close friend, if not more. “He works the nights at his bar and likes to check up on his son during the day, so he's going home to sleep now. We'll go see him later this evening and see if he can fix up your hair a little, if not wash the smell of death out of you.”

“Ah.” Gintoki said instead of the first saucy comment that came to mind, watching the massive man disappear into one of the many houses. Gintoki wasn't sure how he felt about meeting new people quite yet, but he supposed Otose had done nothing wrong to him, nothing except feed him extremely bland soup that he had been able to stomach and pour water over his hair to make it white again.

“Let's go.” Otose said.

Gintoki huffed in agreement, mostly because he didn't know what else he was supposed to be doing, following after her. He was tense as they descended the stairs, the images of what had happened before he had washed up under this old lady's nose still fresh in his memory. Otose took on a slow pace as she led Gintoki to the main street through the city, and Gintoki was glad that no one seemed to notice him. Gintoki kept his eyes up. Glancing around at the buildings as they passed trying to get a feel for the layout should he need to escape, noticing the suspicious people lingering underneath a balcony in the shade, waving at Otose like they were the best of friends. It wasn't until they passed by a guard that Gintoki started to get nervous, started to wonder again about how recognizable his name and face were. He stepped closer to Otose, his eyes remaining level to not attract suspicion.

But his hair shone like the sun, and no one could resist those stupid curls.

“Oi, who's this, Otose? Never seen hair like that before in my life.” The guard called, casually approaching them. The guard placed a hand on his hip, his other turning up the leather helmet he wore so he could get a better look. He was a bland-looking man, his eyes roaming over Gintoki's figure too intently for Gintoki's liking. “Haven't seen you before. You a new stray in Riften?”

Gintoki's heart was thrumming in his chest and his mouth was suddenly dry again. He was once again aware that his hip was bare of a blade – all that time down in that dungeon, and he still reflexively grabbed for his hilt – and the guard had a blade himself. Would the man recognize him? Would he know Gintoki was more trouble than he was worth? That the last time Gintoki had been awake, he had been sentenced to death? Would this be the moment when Gintoki was shipped back to the Imperials to get sent to the chopping block once again? Or worse?

“He's mine.” Otose said. She moved beside Gintoki and shooed the guard away. “Don't pester him too much, he's a little shy.”

 _Shy?_ _I'm not shy._ Gintoki thought, but he didn't voice his disagreement because the guard was laughing and raising his hands in surrender. The man even took a step back to give them space, which made Gintoki glance to Otose in wonder. _She's not just a little old lady, is she?_

“Of course, of course.” The guard said in good spirit. “Carry on then. I have rounds to get to.”

And with that, the guard simply left them be. Gintoki fell back into step with Otose, and Otose merely continued to lead the way. Otose didn't comment and Gintoki didn't ask. But he did wonder.

It was on the bridge over the canal, which stunk like something had died, that Gintoki finally voiced his concerns. His legs were starting to get tired, and if this little excursion went wrong, Gintoki wasn't sure he'd be able to defend himself, let alone flee. He didn't want to classify himself as paranoid but in all honestly, he was completely paranoid.

“Who are we going to see?” He asked. He tucked his hands into the sleeves of his yukata.

“Are you worried?” Otose asked instead. It sounded like it was meant to be a joke, but Gintoki wasn't sure. She glanced over to Gintoki, a small smile on her lips, but when Gintoki didn't respond, she sighed. “Not very trusting. It might do you some good around here. Lots of these people are cons, so make sure you don't get swindled. If you remember, I mentioned last night that I paid some good coin for skill, correct?”

Gintoki nodded, vaguely remembering the discussion about the cuffs the night before. “I have debts to pay.” He said simply, assuming Otose intended for him to work and pay off his dues so she could send him packing as soon as possible. He had to be a hassle, after all. This was freeloading, wasn't it? He didn't want to attract any attention by staying but he also didn't want to rush forward in leaving before he was ready and cause a ruckus in his haste. His thoughts must have been obvious because Otose laughed beside him.

“You're just making acquaintances today, relax kid.” Otose said. She glanced over to Gintoki just as they turned down another street – Gintoki was pretty sure he was already lost and turned around by now – several store signs hanging into view. “He was once in your shoes right now. He just wants to make sure you won't murder me in my sleep for my small fortune of ten gold coins. Also, I have business with the Jarl and you don't seem too fond of authority right now.”

Gintoki chuckled nervously as they stopped outside of a shop. _She's a keen one. Is this good or bad? Do I have to be careful?_ He glanced up, _The_ _Cross_ _-blade_ scrawled across the sign.

“I told you, old lady, you shouldn't trust every drowned stranger you find. It's not my fault you brought me home. You should have left me with the reeds.” Gintoki said just as Otose knocked on the front door. It was late enough that the shop should have been open, but Otose rapped a second time, perhaps the pattern to her knocks an indication of who it was. For whatever reason, the shop was closed.

_Is this an ambush? Am I being led straight into the waiting arms of Imperials? I'm not paranoid. Nope. Not at all._

The door opened several minutes later, a very pale younger woman with fine ash-blonde hair tied over one shoulder stood in the doorway. She was wearing a grey dress under a dark purple cloak, most of her body hidden from view. She smiled in greeting, hazel eyes fond on Otose before landing on Gintoki behind the older woman. Her smile disappeared, her eyes focused intently on Gintoki and Gintoki alone.

“Is that him?” The blonde woman asked before opening the door wider for them. She was short, but the fire in her eyes made Gintoki feel like the tiny woman could kick him back to where he came from.

“Yes. Gintoki, this is Mutsu.” Otose said, stepping past her and inside. “Welcome to The Cross-blade. You can get a little bit of everything in here.”

Gintoki tried to stick to Otose's back like glue, but Mutsu blocked him before he could get inside. He didn't say anything as the woman inserted herself between Gintoki and shop. He wasn't intimated, nor was he sent into another spiraling fit of paranoia. He actually viewed her loyalty and protective nature as a good sign. “Cause any trouble and I'll haul your ass back out to the lake and drown you myself.”

Gintoki only laughed nervously in response as the woman moved aside. She had spirit, and it kindled some of his own. He stepped in past her, skirting closer to Otose. He couldn't quite shake off the feeling that he was in hostile territory, couldn't quite decide if that was just his past talking or his intuition.

The shop was well lit with an open storefront, smelled like fresh-cut wood. There were benches for customers to sit and perhaps wait for service or their items, or for people like Gintoki who were winded simply from walking halfway across town. There were no goods on display, just a counter with a door behind it and a bunch of paintings hung on the walls.

“I'll go find the idiot.” Mutsu said with one last glance over her shoulder as she disappeared behind the counter. She opened the door that was obviously meant for staff, shutting it behind her.

Otose glanced over her shoulder looking rather amused. She eyed Gintoki up before nudging him with her elbow. “Don't look so tense.”

“I'm not tense.” Gintoki said tensely. His fingers were clamped around his forearms beneath his sleeves, his nervousness masked rather well.

When the door swung opened again, Gintoki almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. A man strutted out from the backroom in a long red jacket, laughing as he came. He was taller than Gintoki himself with his smile flashing shockingly perfect teeth. Blue eyes slid suspiciously to Gintoki before sliding down to Otose beside him.

_So. This is the guy with the skills._

“Granny!” He exclaimed loudly, fluidly jumping the counter to go give the old woman a hug. His mop of curly brown hair bounced as he did so, and Gintoki caught himself staring intently. He was nervous, but it wasn't the same anxiety he had felt when the guard had stopped them to talk.

Otose briefly hugged him back before pushing him away. “What did I tell you about that nickname? I'm not your grandmother.”

“Granny, you brought our little friend!” He said, ignoring her. He laughed so damn loud as he stood up from the hug and skipped around Otose to Gintoki. Gintoki almost took a step back like an excited puppy was on route to barrel straight into him. He tensed up when the man's forefinger pressed up under Gintoki's jaw, tilting his head so he could get a better look at his face. Gintoki's breath hitched at the contact, eyes widening a smidge as he glanced up at the other man and _damn_ , something was very wrong with him. The stranger was taller, sky blue eyes narrowed as he looked into Gintoki's reds like he was searching for something. That smile was no longer showing off teeth, but it was coy like he knew something Gintoki didn't. It made Gintoki's stomach flutter nervously. Like butterflies. The stupid drunk ones that had no business fluttering in Gintoki's life, especially _right now._

“Tatsuma, let him be. This is Gintoki. He's shy.” Otose said, and once again Gintoki wanted to disagree about being _shy_ but he kept his mouth shut before he could start running his mouth. Tatsuma was positioned between Gintoki and Otose, and it made Gintoki feel cornered. Gintoki just couldn't figure out if it was because of Tatsuma's exuberant and overbearing personality, or because there was actual danger hidden behind that bright smile.

“Shy? Him?” Tatsuma asked. He sounded disbelieving as he said that simple word, but excited all the same. He took his finger back from Gintoki's chin, straightening himself, but he didn't move out of Gintoki's space. Gintoki wondered if it was intentional.

“Yes.” Otose agreed, her tone a little stern. Tatsuma only giggled in response. “Shy. Now I have some matters to attend to with the Jarl, so I was hoping you could keep him around the shop for a few hours. You're doing renovations, aren't you? He can't lift much right now, but I'm sure you can keep him occupied.”

“I certainly can!” Tatsuma exclaimed with a loud laugh, spinning back towards Otose, his hands on her shoulders. “Don't you worry your little heart over him, I can babysit!”

“I don't need a babysitter.” Gintoki said automatically, his tone drawling irritably. There was something about the other man's boisterous personality that made Gintoki want to argue. His teeth clicked when he shut his mouth, Tatsuma responding to his voice immediately.

“Oh, he actually talks?” Tatsuma spun right back around with a large smile, hands going to his hips. “You don't need babysitting? You look like you can hardly stand, darling. Come with me, let's allow Otose to go about her business. She'll be back for you, don't worry. I have no idea where you came from, but you certainly look lost and abused. Welcome to The Cross-blade! I actually invented it! It's a shit design right now so it's not selling! Ahaha!”

Gintoki wasn't worried about the turn of events, but when Tatsuma grabbed his wrist and began to drag him towards the counter and the door behind it, Gintoki couldn't help but glance over his shoulder at Otose with wide, pleading eyes. Otose only smiled at him and waved, the old woman leaving him literally in the hands of the most energetic person Gintoki had ever met. In his life. And he was already exhausted.

Behind the counter and behind the door that was now closed, Gintoki found himself standing in a hallway that looked just as pleasant as the storefront. There were doors only on the left side of the hall, opposite the shop, three of them in total. At the end of the hall was a set of stairs descending into a basement where the supposed renovations were taking place. The idea of going underground with the man left Gintoki tense again, the idea that Otose was selling him off after lying to him, talking him into a false sense of security, once again returned to him. He swallowed, his throat dry again, a wave of anxiety crashing back over him. _I really need to calm down. This isn't some huge, elaborate plot to ship me back to the chopping block. This isn't some huge, elaborate plot to ship me back-_

Tatsuma tugged on Gintoki's wrist, pulling him along behind him like he didn't have a care in the world. Gintoki abruptly honed in on the fact that Tatsuma's leather boots didn't make a sound on the floorboards beneath him despite the skip in his step. _Is he more than just a huge idiot?_ Gintoki knew better than underestimating people. _This isn't some huge, elaborate plot-_

“So Gintoki, hey?” Tatsuma asked with a laugh. “You look like you've been to Hell and back.”

“Something like that.” Gintoki said in response, his eyes on the approaching hole in the floor. He was repeating the mantra over and over in his head, trying to trick himself into believing it.

Suddenly, only a few feet from the basement stairs, Tatsuma stopped. He spun on his heel to face Gintoki then, not a hint of amusement on his face anymore. His right hand jerked Gintoki's wrist up over his chest and he shoved Gintoki two steps back against the wall with his own arm trapped between their bodies. Tatsuma's left hand snagged up underneath Gintoki's jaw, warm palm pressing into Gintoki's throat just enough to be _there._ Gintoki froze in cold fear as his head thudded into the wall, his throat exposed and his hands immediately grasping for Tatsuma's wrists as the taller man leaned into him, hovering over him dangerously. Gintoki's eyes locked up on the blues narrowing back at him, that smile still coy but now a touch too wide. Tatsuma's face was so close Gintoki could hear every whisper loud and clear. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, the paranoia slamming back into him so fast he became lightheaded. His mouth was wet.

Gintoki's knees were weak, butterflies in his stomach. He swallowed, the fear returning tenfold that he had been duped and this was it. He'd simply lived out his last round of hope, and now he was going back to the block to die even more miserable than he had been the first time.

“Granny might have a soft spot these days for strays that wash up to her door, but I make sure they don't bite. You understand?” Tatsuma asked, his voice soft and airy. It was a rhetorical question, and Gintoki kept his mouth shut. “I popped your shackles, you know? Imperial quality never fails to impress and it's always a bitch to get them open. Now I'm going to ask where you escaped from and why you were there in the first place, and you're going to tell me.”

Gintoki's voice caught in his throat because Tatsuma might have been a laughing idiot, but he was keen. Too keen. _Here it is._ Gintoki didn't avert his gaze, not when Tatsuma was hovering so close, waiting and watching for any sign of weakness he could sink his teeth into. Gintoki simply stared back for a moment, his throat dry and his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He could understand Tatsuma's concern – Gintoki literally was dragged shackled and bleeding out of the lake, after all. He could be any kind of con. But how was he supposed to explain anything? How was he supposed to explain the series of incredibly unfortunate events that led him to being chased by a dragon and almost drowning? How was he supposed to express his restrained longing for a second chance at life?

Perhaps it was because of routine interrogations that always went on for too long, but Gintoki's voice failed him. He remained silent, eyes still locked but half-lidded now. He had no answer because he had no idea how to explain, and from previous experience, explanations always dug his grave deeper. There was no point in saying anything. Either Tatsuma had already decided Gintoki was trouble and nothing would change that, or Tatsuma was willing to wait and see whether Gintoki's actions spoke louder than his lack of words.

It wasn't up for Gintoki to decide.

After a tense moment of electrifying silence, Tatsuma chuckled. The hand on Gintoki's throat pulled away and Tatsuma patted his cheek, his palm clapping against Gintoki's skin. And just like that, Tatsuma's mood drastically shifted and he was laughing again.

“You're eyes look like dead fish.” Tatsuma decided with amusement in his tone once again. He stepped away, pulling on Gintoki's wrist to get him off the wall. Unsteady, Gintoki's body trailed after Tatsuma but his feet didn't quite move. “Whatever the Imperial army kept you locked up for, they sure didn't take care of you. You know that means you're the worst of the worst, right? The demons left on the bottom floor to scrounge up the bugs that come crawling by.”

 _The demons left on the bottom floor._ _But how are you so sure?_ Gintoki didn't respond. He had nothing to say, not even as Tatsuma dragged him down the basement stairs, his warm palm firmly clasped around Gintoki's cold wrist. Gintoki didn't open his mouth, not even as the basement came into view. The first room was full of potions and ingredients and the like, crates and sacks of what Gintoki assumed was merchandise, but Tatsuma dragged Gintoki past all that to a door strategically hidden behind a large cabinet.

The door was open. Gintoki's heart rate picked up in stress again, but when Tatsuma dragged him further into the room Gintoki almost laughed at himself. He was so high strung, it was ridiculous.

Mutsu was on the other side of the large open room, standing amongst planks and nails and a variety of tools. She was instructing three other men on where things needed to go, pointing here and there and checking the paper weighted down on the table beside her. They were really doing renovations. There were two walls in the process of being built, lots of materials lying around everywhere. It wasn't some convoluted plot to send Gintoki back to the dungeon, it was just organized chaos. Nothing major. _I really need to relax._

Mutsu glanced up then, her eyes soft on Tatsuma but cutting straight over to Gintoki with a sharp look. Gintoki briefly wondered why she was so wary of him, decided either one day he could come to know or die wondering.

“Tatsuma, took you long enough. Progress is good, but we're still behind schedule.” Mutsu informed, her voice even and professional. However, her eyes didn't leave Gintoki as she spoke.

“That's fine!” Tatsuma laughed loudly. “As long as we finish eventually!”

“It really _isn't_ fine!” One of the other men called back, but he was laughing at the comment.

“This is Gintoki.” Tatsuma said, dragging Gintoki out from behind him. He glanced to Gintoki, smile bright but eyes still narrowing just for him. Gintoki couldn't tell if he was prey or an object of interest. “He's going to help out with the easier stuff. How about you go help over there, he's measuring out the new wall. I need to go check the dock to see if my shipment arrived. Mutsu, can you babysit? Make sure he works!”

“Of course I'll keep an eye on everything.” Mutsu said, her eyes sliding to Gintoki specifically. “You're too irresponsible.” _You mean you'll keep an eye on me._

Gintoki stepped away from Tatsuma, forced himself really because he wasn't sure if he was allowed to move freely, dragging his gaze away as he moved closer to the man who was waving at him. Gintoki liked to claim he had a lot of skills, but he was definitely rusty. He just hoped his energy wouldn't deplete before he could be of use. He could feel Tatsuma's eyes on his back as he approached the man who was eager to introduce himself, but soon after, Tatsuma himself disappeared.

Gintoki didn't know what to make of it.

–

Hours later, when Gintoki was starting to feel really dizzy and a little sick, Otose came back for him.

It was silly, Gintoki thought, how excited he was to see her appear in that basement after hardly knowing her for half a day. Like a puppy, he thought, before shutting the words out of his brain. Gintoki perked up, eyes landing on her as she crossed her arms in the doorway, a welcomed familiarity amongst the strange land he'd found himself in.

“I've come back for my stray.” Otose said, her eyes finding Gintoki immediately. “How has he done?”

“He did fine.” Mutsu said blandly, which was probably more praise than she wanted to give him. “No trouble and he actually worked.”

“And Tatsuma?” Otose asked. Her voice lilted then, eyes searching. It was a slight tone shift that went unnoticed by everyone else in the room it seemed. Suspicion, perhaps? Gintoki simply noted it. Tatsuma was a weird one, after all.

“He's out on the docks with the shipment.” One of the men said. He was leaning against the wall they had spent the past few hours putting up, a tankard of ale in his hands that Gintoki had refused not too long ago. All that was left was installing the door, but Gintoki really didn't want anything to do with that. He had already picked out six splinters from the palms of his hands.

Otose only hummed in acknowledgment before gesturing at Gintoki to come with her. “Let's go, we have somewhere to be. Have a good night Mutsu.”

“Good night.”

Gintoki nodded. He got up and followed after Otose, his eyes focused on her back and not Mutsu who was still watching him intently. He was glad to be leaving. It hadn't been awful, so to speak, but it had been nerve-wracking none the less. Gintoki wondered what the purpose had been for. _She probably doesn't trust me enough to leave me in the house alone. She said she was speaking to the Jarl – what if, what if they know –_

Outside, Gintoki inhaled the fresh air and tried to stop his brain. Worrying was only going to give him wrinkles and an early heart attack. The sun was still high in the sky but it was already late afternoon. His feet were incredibly sore, legs gently shaking. Otose glanced at him before gently grabbing his arm, tugging him along. He wasn't sure if Otose just instinctively knew, but she kept the pace slow. Gintoki almost pulled away, anxiety and mistrust clouding his mind. But that would be too obvious, wouldn't it? So he let her loop her arm with his, his emotions and thoughts still swirling.

_Why do I feel so guilty?_

“If you're not feeling up to it, we can stop by Saigo's tomorrow.” She said. “It might be better anyway. He has a decent-sized bath so you can get a little more cleaned up too and change your bandages out after some rest. You look like you need to rest a little, you're awfully pale.”

“Sure.” Gintoki agreed. He could admit he was tired and that a warm bath sounded nice, but he also couldn't admit that he was so stressed he wanted to cry.

A few stray eyes of the city-folk turned their way as they passed the bridge over the canal, but thankfully no one approached. Gintoki read too much into it, his heart rate picking up again. _Please, for the love of everything holy, calm down._

“How was Tatsuma? He can be a handful, but he's a good kid.” Otose said.

Gintoki chuckled, remembering warm skin pressed up under his throat, those eyes promising Hell should Gintoki try anything stupid. He remembered feeling… something. Definitely confused. “He's quite loud.”

Otose laughed at that. “Yes. He really is, isn't he? He's been loud since day one. Not sure if that boy ever learned any manners.”

“Did you drag him out of the river too?” Gintoki asked.

“Not quite.” Otose said. When Gintoki glanced over to her, she was smiling fondly. But her eyes were turned down like she was debating how to explain. “Perhaps it was the opposite.”

“He dragged _you_ out of the river?” Gintoki asked, baffled, earning himself a genuine chuckle from Otose.

“Of course not.” Otose said. “Are you blind? Can't you see how old I am? What makes you think I decided to go for a swim in the lake? He didn't save me, he washed up just like you did.”

 _You could have_ _fallen in_ _as I had._ Gintoki kept his mouth shut, but the smile came to him easily. He thought about it then, wondered what kind of trouble Tatsuma had found himself in to end up under Otose's care. _He probably didn't talk to a dragon. Maybe I'm just crazy? Maybe I was drugged for the execution and imagined the dragon? What was its name again?_

They returned back to Otose's home in silence. It wasn't until they were in the front entrance and Gintoki was eagerly prying the boots off his feet – they didn't fit quite right, and they were aggravating some of his wounds – that Otose started to talk unprompted.

“I only leave Riften to visit my husband's memorial.” Otose said. She knelt at the hearth to get the fire going again, her back to Gintoki as she spoke. “I visit him every year out there, it's down along the lake under a rock. Every other year, he sends me something troublesome in return. I can't tell if it's out of love or self-amusement.”

 _So it was just luck that she found me? Pure luck._ Gintoki didn't respond. He kicked off his boots and sat down on the nearest chair, sighing in relief when the pressure on his feet was let up. He wanted to believe he had been lucky, that it had been fate and he was destined to do life right the second time. But the Imperials and the dragon were still lurking in the back of his mind, along with the intense worry that all of this would just get his hopes up before taking him back underground. That this would be the cruelest punishment of them all.

_Maybe… by my hand… I should just put an end to this..._

“You were face down in the mud when I found you, hardly out of the water. Tatsugoro didn't get his offering again this year, but he keeps sending me strays so what does he expect?” Otose said like she was chastising the man and he could hear her. She sighed in exasperation. She stood up then, turning back around the face Gintoki. “You were so muddy and curled up so awkwardly I thought you were a dead animal. I have no idea how you didn't drown but...”

 _Thank-you._ Gintoki didn't say it, wouldn't, but his second thought was less appreciative. _But you should have left me to drown._

“Well. This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Luckily Saigo always comes with me when I leave the walls, just in case something wild gets too close. Saigo was waiting nearby for me to return. He carried you all the way home.”

 _I should thank him too then, on your behalf._ Gintoki listened, his eyes cast to his wrapped feet. He already knew the old lady didn't want him to thank her, so he didn't offer up anything else. What else could he say? He didn't want to invade, to ask about Tatsugoro. Did he really need to know how the man died? Did he really need to know about how Otose ended up with Tatsuma? Did he really need any of this?

“I don't know what kind of trouble you were in, but you're getting a second chance. Tatsugoro only helps those prematurely knocking on death's door.” Otose said. She turned away then, moving into the kitchen, continuing on nonchalantly like she hadn't just made Gintoki's heart stop, his hope lurching into his throat, making him choke.

“I'll make you some broth for dinner, seeing how apparently you don't like cabbage.”


	3. Stranger Danger Isn't Reserved For Only Children And V-Bangs Are Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a verbal update that sends Gintoki into a mental panic. He meets someone new, and unknowingly starts his first side quest.

Otose's house wasn't that bad and neither was the old woman herself. Gintoki wasn't sure if he had decided this because of what Otose had said hours earlier, or because it was simply better living accommodations than anything he'd had before and he didn't want to push his luck. Leave it to him to make simple things way more complicated than they needed to be. It didn't even matter, did it? Why were his thoughts running around in circles, leaving him so confused? Why was he staring longingly at the door to Otose's bedroom, before his mind inevitably wandered back to that hand snagging up underneath his throat, thumb gently caressing his pulse point?

_Because I want that second chance but I'm not sure I deserve it._

Otose had left him to his own devices after dinner, had retreated back to her own bedroom to do some reading it seemed. Gintoki wondered if she was establishing an unspoken rule about bothering her past a certain time. Then again, Gintoki had been over analyzing everything she said and did, searching for the rules that probably didn't even exist in the first place. He wouldn't go into her room, either. Wouldn't call her out for anything. Perhaps if she was in her room, she didn't want to deal with him. Didn't want to see him.

Fair. Gintoki made himself comfortable in one of the chairs in the little sitting area, or as comfortable as he could get with healing wounds, a book in his lap to try and pass the time. It wasn't that he was particularly interested in reading, it was just better than drowning in his thoughts or staring at the wall. He'd spent more than enough time in his life staring at the wall. Some outside stimulation would do him wonders.

And unfortunately, it seemed years of fighting and staring in the dark had left him struggling to read. He cracked open the thin book, the pages old and yellowed beneath his fingertips. There were familiar shapes all over the first page, overwhelming almost, but before Gintoki could get upset over possibly forgetting how to read and understanding his own language, his brain seemed to connect the missing dots. Suddenly he was several pages into a ludicrous tale about a Daedric staff that could turn people into frogs, his worries and paranoia temporarily forgotten. The whole story sounded like bullshit, but the speed at which he understood the words was increasing, and with it came a sense of achievement. He was fumbling, but he was fumbling over everything in his life now, wasn't he?

He felt better.

It was later that night that the news came.

The knock on the door was sudden and loud, Gintoki on his feet in an instance. He jerked so hard in surprise that the book was on the floor and forgotten about, Gintoki's right hand swiping to the left hip. It took him a second to catch up to what had happened, what he was doing, and the second he heard Otose in the doorway, he tried to relax his stance.

“It's okay.” Otose said as she wandered out from her room in her nightgown. Her eyes turned to him as she moved past, a line appearing between her eyebrows. It was like she could see through his every action. Like she knew what he was. “Don't be so tense.”

She opened the front door casually, Gintoki taking a step back out of view and loitering closer to the wall. He wasn't _hiding_ , he was just… unsure. For a lot of reasons he thought were justified.

“Otose! There's-” The large man from the street earlier bellowed in what sounded like anger, emerging into the door frame so fast and so aggressively that Gintoki was suddenly _there_ , right at Otose's side. Gintoki was weaponless and weak, but his body was moving on autopilot, the danger already acknowledged. He'd break the man's nose with his palm if he had to.

“A dragon-” Saigo's voice trailed off, his eyes turning to Gintoki and intently staring at him despite Gintoki's hostile stance. He blinked twice before a huge smile split across the man's lips as he moved further into the house, forgetting his haste and what he had been previously saying. Which had sounded _very_ important. Gintoki himself backed down, realizing what he had done, but Saigo followed him when Gintoki took a step away from him.

“Oh! The little drowned skeever! How are you feeling today? Better? Your hair is actually white!” Saigo exclaimed. “Your skin is so smooth too, I'm sure a little colour and some powder-”

“What are you talking about? A dragon?” Otose asked nonchalantly as she shut the door behind Saigo. Her eyes were locked on Gintoki though, confused and analytical. “This is Gintoki. He's doing a lot better than the last time you saw him.”

 _How does he know about the dragon?_ _There really was a dragon?_ _Oh shit? Is this it? Do they know it's because of me?_ _I_ _s_ _it even because of me? Can everyone talk to dragons?_ _I don't want to be special, it's not fair._ Gintoki's eyes were wide, flashbacks from the other day assaulting him instantly. He could feel the blistering heat on his skin again, could hear the beast's voice echoing in his head. His hands were suddenly cold at his side, his mouth terribly dry. Otose misunderstood his stress, because she suddenly waved Saigo off.

“Give him space, he's really shy.” Otose said. She was smacking the man's thick, muscled arm with her open palm, encouraging the huge man to move over to one of the chairs. “He's had a very exciting day. Can you sit down and stop acting like a Hagraven?”

“Oh, yes, of course, thank-you!” Saigo said as he plopped into the chair Gintoki had previously been sitting in. His foot knocked the book under the chair. He suddenly jerked up, twisting in his seat towards Otose, his voice rising again in what Gintoki realized had just been booming excitement. “Oh! The Special Imperial Squad just showed up with the news! There's! There was a dragon spotted in the southern mountains! Two of them! Remember all that smoke we saw a few days ago when we went to visit… the memorial...”

Saigo suddenly glanced over to Gintoki with a thoughtful look on his face, and Otose looked too.

“Right.” Otose said. She put both hands onto her hips.

 _Two?_ _Two d_ _ragons?_ Gintoki's breath caught. He slowly backed away from Saigo, searching for somewhere to sit himself down. He moved off into the kitchen area so he could still hear but maintain his own space, seeking out his tankard to get himself more water. _What do you mean, two dragons? Are you kidding?_ _Where the hell did the second one come from?_ _Am I blind? Were there two_ _and I was just so preoccupied with the one talking to me that I never even noticed there was another? No, right_ _?_

“Sounds like a drunkard mistook a cloud-”

“No, Otose! They're certain!” Saigo said. He suddenly sounded less excited and grimmer. “The Jarl called a meeting in an hour. We don't want to be unprepared if one of the dragons decides to attack the city, let alone both of them.”

Gintoki felt light headed, the candlelight dancing in the corners of his eyes and leaving behind stars. He glanced over his shoulder, remembering the beast introducing itself, remembering the green fire that had been so beautiful but deadly, remembering the Imperials who died even though the creature's attention had seemingly been locked on Gintoki and Gintoki only. Stricken, Gintoki wondered if maybe he would be the cause of more deaths, if he had lured the dragons straight to the city somehow. Was he just being conceited? What kind of out-of-this-world plot would make him the center of a dragon's attention? Was this all just a vivid hallucination? A nightmare? Had he actually lost his head on that chopping block? What had he done to deserve this?

 _You know_ what you did.

The world went black. Pressure exploded over Gintoki's temple and blinded his eyes. Gintoki felt himself fall, like he had when he had skidded off that cliff into the waters that he should have drowned in. But he never felt himself hit the ground.

–

 _“I am Utsuro_ _the King of the Altana, the World-Eater,_ _the God of Destruction and Chaos_ _. Our pleasantries have been exchanged._ _Light will never purge the darkness,_ _and the light shall be snuffed out_ _._ _Good-bye, Gintoki._ _”_

Gintoki jerked awake just like he had the first night. He was suddenly sitting upright with a gasp, his head spinning from the movement, the blankets trapped around his waist. He glanced over to the window, sunlight drifting in, alerting him to the fact that he wasn't in the tiny bedroom up in Otose's attic. He glanced around himself in a panic, not recognizing the green blanket around his hips, the extra-large bed, nor the décor. He was on his feet in the next moment, stumbling into the wall, his hip smashing into the end table and knocking a book and several wooden bowls to the ground, their pasty contents smearing all over the floor. His palms were flat in support, his body sagging as the world continued to spin around him.

Gasping, Gintoki flinched when someone appeared in the nearby doorway. He relaxed immediately, still trying to keep his balance when he realized it was Otose and that he was once again panicking for no reason.

Or did he actually have a really good reason?

“Good morning.” She said carefully as she entered the bedroom. With slow movements and obvious hands, she grabbed his nearest arm, helping him shift so that he could fall back down on the edge of the bed again. “A little too eager this morning, don't you think?”

“Where am I?” Gintoki asked, both of his hands holding tightly onto hers. His voice sounded desperate. His eyes were closed to fight off the spinning, his breaths deep to try and reign in the panic. _Morning? Did I lose another week of my life?_ _Was there a_ _nother dragon? Are there three now_ _?_ “What happened?”

“You collapsed.” Otose said like they were merely discussing the weather. She didn't move to take her arms back, just held onto Gintoki instead. “Saigo brought you into my room because it was closer. You're still in my house, don't worry.”

“Oh.” Gintoki chuckled as he exhaled, the world returning to some semblance of normal. He let her go, placing his hands onto the bed just to have them somewhere secure. “Oh, okay.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Otose asked. She used that tone Gintoki had noticed earlier in the basement of _The Cross-blade_ , the gentle note of concerned suspicion. She wiped his damp bangs away from his face and placed her hand to the back of his forehead. Something akin to fear passed over her face. “You don't feel warm. Do you have any medical problems?”

“No, no, I'm fine.” Gintoki said. He pushed her hand away before rubbing his face himself, trying to school his expression back into his favorite flaccid look. “Guess I overdid it last night.”

“I agree.” Otose said. She moved then, sitting down beside Gintoki on the bed. She smoothed out the blanket between them, her next words attempting to sound like she wasn't prying. “Saigo came with news about dragons and the Special Imperial Squad. You fainted shortly after.”

“Ah.” Gintoki said. He took in a slow breath, remembering bits and pieces of the discussion from the night before. _So the dragon_ _discussion_ _was real, but does anyone know about my involvement?_ “I apologize for the hassle.”

“Stop that.” Otose said and she lightly smacked his arm for emphasis. “I was concerned you had a fever from infection and never mentioned it. Please. Tell me when you're not feeling alright so I can help. I wouldn't have taken you in if I didn't care. You don't have to be so prideful and stubborn about it.”

Gintoki chuckled, still glancing at his feet.

“Do you have concerns about the Special Imperial Squad?” Otose asked bluntly. “Because if you need to stay hidden indoors, please tell me now before I drag you out and about into everyone's business.”

Gintoki suddenly felt bad as he shrugged. He felt bad that he had no idea if he was still a wanted war criminal, if coming to Skyrim had only made everything worse. Was he even allowed to cross the border? Did the Imperial army know?

“I don't know.” He said honestly. “I've never even heard about the Special Imperial Squad so I have no idea if they would be interested in someone like me.” _Someone like me, someone who… someone who killed..._

“Good that you haven't even heard of them, then. They investigate special cases within all of Skyrim. I'm surprised they weren't here days ago when the news first filtered in. The dragons were spotted almost a week ago, after all, and the forests down South have all burned to a crisp in what was apparently green fire.” Otose said, her voice even despite what she was saying. “The Squad usually comes by here because Riften has a bit of a country-wide thievery problem, but they're usually looking for Skooma dealers. They only take on the _big problems_ , if you get my drift. However… we had a visit a few months ago when they were looking for Ulfric Stormcloak. He escaped an Imperial prison, and now he's leading a rebel war on Skyrim.”

Was that last comment a warning? Or a threat? Gintoki glanced over to Otose, his thoughts running a mile a minute. There was always the chance his escape had gone unnoticed. What if he had been eaten by the dragon? There was _also_ the chance his disappearance had been noticed, and Riften would probably be the closest city he could have fled too. It would be the most logical, anyway, especially given how Riften had a reputation for thieves and mischief. But what would happen now? If Gintoki told Otose what had happened to him? What if Gintoki _didn't_ tell her and she got imprisoned because of him, caught hiding a traitor? Gintoki thought about Tatsuma, and his aggressive loyalty, thought about the narrowed stare of Mutsu, Saigo's infatuation – people who all cared for her.

Who was he to ruin that?

“I… I don't know.” Gintoki said again. He turned away. “I don't know if my absence was noticed. The circumstances leading up to the lake were rather… strange?” How was he supposed to explain? He couldn't even make sense of it himself. He shrugged, still not meeting Otose's gaze. “It might be safer for you if I leave. I… I don't really know what my circumstances are right now or how they might impact you, and I'd rather be careful than hopeful.”

Otose hummed in thought, her eyes turning fond. She broke out into a wide smile before standing up and dusting off her dress. “Well, let's get some food in you first. You're not going anywhere on an empty stomach.”

–

“If you want to leave, you're free to go.” The old woman said from her favorite chair. Her legs were crossed and she had a cup of tea on the end table beside her, the book in her lap open but unread. She was looking at the page, but she hadn't turned it in over ten minutes. “Tell me, Gintoki, where do you plan to go?”

Standing awkwardly at the front door in the borrowed boots that were painfully tight, Gintoki stared at the wooden handle in his hands. _Where will I go?_ It suddenly occurred to Gintoki that he was wearing borrowed boots and a borrowed yukata. He didn't even own them. He didn't even own underwear. He had no money, no weapon, he couldn't even untangle the mats from his own hair – which he was grateful Saigo had finally smoothed out his knots the night before, while Otose had changed his bandages.

He was in Skyrim. He had no idea what was even _in_ Skyrim, let alone what was in Skyrim _for him_. He'd spent his childhood in Edo, his teenage years fighting in Cyrodiil. And now here he was, twenty-something and on death's door, standing alone on foreign land once again with no idea why he was even alive.

Where would he go? What would he do? What did he want to do? To run from the Empire forever? To become a cave dweller hiding out and waiting for death? Or to make a living for himself? A better name?

“I plan to get some air.” Gintoki said. And with that, he pulled the front door open and stepped out into Riften, the Special Imperial Squad and dragons and lack of underwear be damned.

He started to walk at a slow pace, no destination in mind because he honestly had no idea why he was even breathing. The weather was shitty, the clouds gray and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air. He could smell it, the moisture, the crispness of the lake nearby mostly masked by the foul stench coming from the canal. He had missed this, gazing up to the sky, watching the clouds move by timeless in their reconstruction.

He needed to make some decisions, and he needed to make them fast. What was he doing? Where was he going? Why? There were too many things, too many options, too many concerns. He'd been ignoring the stares from the people around him, trying to focus on his inner turmoil instead. He had to do something. He had to. He couldn't just sit idle in Otose's attic while dragons rained fire and haunted him in his dreams. Should he leave the city? He didn't even know the city names here, nor how to get around. He didn't even know what he should be doing? Killing the dragon? _How would I even kill a dragon? I can't even get out of bed without falling over!_ So when Gintoki approached the bridge that led over the canal away from the busiest part of the city, he didn't notice someone else fall into step beside him. Someone had been bound to approach him.

It seemed news traveled fast in Skyrim.

“You're staying with Otose.”

Gintoki almost jumped out of his skin, almost, glancing over to a man he hadn't seen before. _This is exactly why you should have stayed in doors!_ The man had dark silky hair with annoyingly long bangs, his eyes crisp like a cloudless sky. But their beauty was ruined with how narrowed in suspicion they were at Gintoki's face. He was wearing a black duster over black leather armor, the jacket buttoned at the waist to keep the secrets hidden beneath the fabric out of sight.

“You're observant.” Gintoki said, letting his tongue get sharp because he was confused and worried and annoyed and unsure and stressed and he had no idea who this man was. The man seemed to note the tone, but he didn't comment.

“She likes to pick up new strays here and there. Not many seem to stick around for too long. I assume you're just another lost soul.” The man said casually as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. Gintoki's eyes slid to his hand immediately, hair rising on the back of his neck like he was facing a threat, but the man simply pulled out an empty pipe and stuck the end against his bottom lip. The hairs didn't flatten, the insecurity and paranoia still lingering. _Who is this guy? What does he want? Just a nosy rich guy?_ _An enemy of Otose?_

When Gintoki didn't respond, the man scoffed. “Shy, are we? What's your name?”

“Wouldn't it be polite of you to tell me your name first?” Gintoki asked, glancing at the man. They crossed over the bridge, the stench worse on this side it seemed. “Or should I just call you V-bangs?”

The man instantly responded. “What are you saying about my hair?”  
  
“I'm saying it looks stupid.” Gintoki said without hesitating.

Gintoki's unwanted companion stopped, eyes wide, the hand with the pipe lowering from his mouth. He blinked once, mouth open. He started to laugh, eyes sparkling, smile bright. “Did you just insult me? Straight to my face?”

“Yes?” Gintoki said, but it came out more like a question. _I hope you're not the Jarl or something_. Gintoki started to walk again with a smile of his own because he didn't understand _why_ it was so funny, but feared he had made some sort of blunder without even realizing it. His heart sped up.

He walked along the stone wall and from here as he moved, he could see down every street and alley. It didn't look like the wall that surrounded the city, but it did look like it was meant to keep people out. A rich man's house? The Jarl? Gintoki didn't know where he was and to be completely honest, he wasn't even sure he knew how to get back to Otose's. _Is this trouble? I should have asked about the town before I left_ _so I could find my way back_ _. She_ _even_ _told me to be wary of everyone and here I am running my mouth just because h_ _is hair_ _looks silly!_

“Hijikata.” The man said, jogging to catch up to Gintoki. He was still grinning. “Name's Hijikata. And you?”

“Gintoki.” Gintoki said automatically, his name sounding more confident on his tongue than it had in years. He glanced quickly to see if Hijikata recognized it, but it seemed like Gintoki was safe once again.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Gintoki. What dragged you into Riften? Your accent sounds foreign.” Hijikata said, the pipe going back to his lip. He was just toying with it. A nervous tick? His eyes were bright, face relaxed. He wasn't a threat, right? Just a regular guy?

 _What brings me here?_ _Murder. War. Dragons._ Gintoki chuckled without humor, his eyes going up to the Jarl's House as they passed by the open gate. The building was huge with twin peaks, two guards standing at the door. _Is this where Otose went yesterday?_ Gintoki was only _assuming_ it was the Jarl's House, didn't want to ask for clarification, didn't want his ignorance to be taken advantage of. He noted it because it looked like something he could see from anywhere in the city. He didn't know if he was facing North or South, had no idea where he was in relation to Cyrodiil even, so some sort of landmark was always welcomed.

But whatever Gintoki needed to know, he would figure it out for himself.

“You came from nothing good, I assume.” Hijikata said once the silence dragged out for too long, mostly because Gintoki was focused on everything around him. They passed the end of Jarl's stone wall and Gintoki carried on his way, taking a path that seemed to lead alongside the houses. Wildflowers sprouted along the path, bright blue and gently fragranced. Gintoki wanted to shove his face into the bushes and just _smell them_ , but with company, he refrained.

“You hear about the dragons yet?” Hijikata suddenly asked.

 _Ah, the dragons._ _Of course, everything leads back to the dragons._ “Dragons?” Gintoki prompted, eyes still on the flowers. “Sounds like a drunkard mistook a cloud in the sky.”

“I wish.” Hijikata said. “Two dragons emerged from the South, a trail of green fire in their wake. One was black, one was brown. You didn't hear anything about it? Didn't see where they were headed.”

 _North._ “Only what you just told me.” Gintoki said and it was true. This was all he had _heard_ about the matter. What he had seen, on the other hand… well. He wouldn't be speaking of _that_ any time soon.

Gintoki glanced over, expression slack but eyes searching. Suddenly, Gintoki was taking in the man's posture, the way the left hip of his jacket stuck out further than the right. A concealed weapon, a sword probably. The fingers playing with the pipe were calloused and deft as they pulled out a little box and filled the bowl. And the people around them, Gintoki noticed as they started to head out of sight, the city folk were watching them. Whispering. Their eyes full of suspicion and mistrust.

Gintoki suddenly glanced ahead, trying to figure out how to get himself back on the city streets, into the view of other people should this man try to cut him once they were hidden behind the residential houses. Was Hijikata one of the cons Otose had been talking about? Or was he something worse? Or were the city folk worried about _Gintoki?_

There was a shrine nearby in the little patch of grass between the yards and Riften's stone wall, a shrine partially hidden by a bush. The statue was different than what Gintoki had seen in Cyrodiil, but it was undeniably an altar of sorts. It wouldn't be the first time Gintoki had feigned prayer to avoid unwanted attention.

It was then that Gintoki realized he knew nothing about Riften. Knew nothing about the people of Skyrim. Knew nothing about their customs, their mannerisms, their cutthroat natures. And suddenly, Gintoki missed- he didn't know _what_ he missed, he just missed feeling like he had a home, a place to belong. Deeply, he yearned, but for what, he did not know.

“I should update you, then.” Hijikata said. Just like that, Gintoki was dragged out of his head, trying to remember what the had been talking about. Dragons, right? “I have somewhere I need to be soon.”

Hijikata stopped when Gintoki turned to follow the dirt path behind the houses. Gintoki paused with him, space between them, suspicion heavy in the air. Hijikata finally pulled out a box of matches, lighting his pipe.

“Watch the skies. Never know when one of those dragons might show its ugly face again.” Hijikata said, taking a deep inhale. He made direct eye contact with Gintoki when he exhaled. “And watch the streets too. Word came back from Cyrodiil that the black dragon was first spotted over there, but they're also missing a dangerous prisoner. Seems like trouble is finding its way into Skyrim.”

“Oh?” Gintoki asked blandly.

“Just because it came out of Cyrodiil's backyard doesn't mean it's not the Empire’s problem anymore.” Hijikata said. It sounded like he already knew. “Keep your attention sharp.”

“You as well.” Gintoki said politely, simply because he had nothing else to say. He turned and walked away then, heading towards the shrine just in case Hijikata was still watching him, hundreds of thoughts on his mind as he approached. Suddenly, Gintoki's worries about dragons and Imperials and misfortune were back tenfold, reminding him that his hip was bare, that his past preceded him. That he was breathing air he shouldn't, that he had been sentenced to death and he had cheated it.

_There's nothing I can do to atone._

Standing at the shrine, Gintoki stared at it. It looked like a cross, kind of looked like a sword if Gintoki tilted his head. Gintoki had never been able to discern one shrine from another, and now proved to be no different. But Gintoki stared in wonder, searching within himself for a pull or some sort of heavenly presence. Should he pray? Should he thank some higher being under the innocent hope that the world wouldn't take everything away from him again? But thank them for what? A second chance? A second chance to do _what_? _The longer you breathe, the more lives you ruin._

“Didn't take you for a religious man.”

Gintoki jumped at the voice, spinning around with wide eyes. His heart rate picked up, nervous butterflies in his stomach again. Standing six feet away from him was Tatsuma, a sly smile on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. _Where the hell did he come from? He wasn't here a minute ago!_ He'd seemingly appeared out of nowhere, unless he had been loitering in a yard or that tiny little crypt off in the distance.

Gintoki glanced back to the shrine after checking to make sure Hijikata had left, his thoughts suddenly blank, mouth shut because he had nothing to say. Now what? It was possible the Imperials knew where he was. Why else would Hijikata warn him like that? It was apparent Gintoki had nowhere to be, nowhere to go. So what could he do?

He could cry. That might be nice.

“You realize you were just conversing with a Special Imperial?” Tatsuma asked with a loud laugh. He strutted the remaining distance, standing too close beside Gintoki and also observing the shrine like it were speaking prophecy. “And not just _any_ Special Imperial! The one and only Hijikata Toshirou! Lucky you!”

Gintoki glanced over to Tatsuma, several questions on the end of his tongue. But the confusion must have been apparent because Tatsuma didn't even let him ask.

“He's the Demon Vice-chief of the Squad.” Tatsuma clarified. “I know you're new and all, but you should be wary of everyone you meet here. The people of Skyrim are a little more aggressive than what you're probably used to, and Riften more so.”

“Should I be wary of _you_?” Gintoki asked, glancing over just before Tatsuma started to laugh again.

“Probably.” Tatsuma said. “And I of you. But what choice do we have? Granny took you in, so either you respect her or I take care of you. You don't seem so bad, Kintoki, but then again, neither do I.”

“Gintoki.” Gintoki muttered absently, thoughts swirling.

“Tell you what.” Tatsuma said, nudging his shoulder into Gintoki's and sending Gintoki's heart skittering. “I'll take you out for a drink just because you look so miserable.”

“What? Why? It's not even noon?” Gintoki asked, glancing over his shoulder. When was the last time he'd even _drunk_? The idea sounded tempting, but he also knew his alcohol tolerance was probably worse than a child's. What was Tatsuma's goal here? To get him drunk? Loose lipped? Murder him? _Worse?_

_Don't be so paranoid!_

Tatsuma laughed, grabbing Gintoki's wrist with gentle hands and dragging him back the way he had come. “You see, it's all about give and take in Riften.”

“Oh?” Gintoki asked, allowing himself to be pulled after the much too boisterous man, concern and weariness still at the forefront of his mind. _I… I shouldn't make friendly… not when I can ruin everything good for them..._

“Yeah!” Tatsuma laughed happily, but the smile he cut Gintoki was dark. “You've taken, and now I expect you to give.”


End file.
